


"IN HIS ARMS" - A PEDRO PASCAL | TOM HIDDLESTON STORY.

by A_Wolf



Category: Pedro Pascal - Fandom, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: A.Wölf, Multi, Tumblr, theartofimagining13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:53:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29067600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Wolf/pseuds/A_Wolf
Summary: Based on: After a big discussion with your fiancé Tom, he storms out and doesn’t come back till the next morning. When he finally arrives home, he finds your engagement ring on the bedside table. Using a location finder app, Tom arrives in a familiar building where his close friend Pedro lives. Tom’s pretty certain that you called Pedro because you had nowhere else to go and were in need of friendly advice since they know each other very well, but everything changes abruptly when he finds you in his apartment walking around in lingerie.
Relationships: Pedro Pascal/Original Female Character(s), Tom Hiddleston/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 30





	1. DISENGAGEMENT

**Originally posted at** : [The Art of Imagining](http://theartofimagining13.tumblr.com/).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[TEASER](https://theartofimagining13.tumblr.com/post/641405431051321344/in-his-arms-a-pedro-pascal-tom-hiddleston) | [POSTER](https://theartofimagining13.tumblr.com/post/641492108389318656/t-e-a-s-e-r)

* * *

I tossed and turned all night and barely got any sleep.

After my fight with Thomas, how could I? We were getting married in less than two months and I had just spent the night without my fiancé by my side because he left in a fit of rage. I looked at my phone; no texts, no calls, and it was 8 in the morning. I was pissed now, lying in bed while staring at the ceiling, thinking, thinking, thinking until I came to the conclusion that I had no need to withstand this. And out of spite, I dialed the number of the one man who’d probably never do this to me.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” I asked.

“Are you okay?” Pedro answered with his morning voice on the other line.

“Yeah. Uhm… can I come over?”

Judging by his silence, I was sure that he was glancing at the clock and frowning because this wasn’t normal for us at all.

“Sure.” He said. “Are you- where are you?”

“I’ll tell you everything when I get there.”

I got out of the shower and packed a bag with essentials and favorites.

If Thomas could leave so easily, so could I, and I’d make it 10 times worse. Why would I subject myself to this shit? If we were fighting now, I didn’t even want to imagine what would happen if we went through with the wedding. I looked at my engagement ring and my stomach clenched. I hesitated but this had to be done, so I took it off and left it on Tom’s bedside table.

Au revoir, mon amour.

* * *

In the arms of my lover Pedro…

He gently drew invisible patterns on my naked skin with his fingertips after having shared his bed with me yet again. As soon as I crossed his threshold, I went in for a desperate kiss; childishly spiteful perhaps. My bag fell to the floor, and he immediately started removing my clothes. I could never get enough of him. He was such a passionate man, and even if I tried to describe the way he touched me, I would not find the right words because it was so contradictory; with the carefulness of a museum curator restoring a masterpiece but also with a you’re-not-going-anywhere tight grasp.

 _“I feel like Beauty and the Beast.”_ He said, pulling me out of my bliss.

_“What?”_

He just showed a lazy smile, left a soft kiss on my right shoulder and played with a strand of my hair while deep in thought. He was such cryptic man. I wish he’d elaborate on things. I always felt like there was something he wanted to tell me; his secrets, his motivations, a dark revelation. The most addictive trait about Pedro was that I couldn’t really read him and he kept me guessing.

 _“Are you sure you didn’t act on impulse?”_ He inquired.

_“What do you mean?”_

_“You ended your engagement. Not by word but I think it was pretty implicit.”_ He paused. _“Would you have done it even if I wasn’t in the picture?”_

 _“I booked a hotel for the night if that’s what’s worrying you.”_ I said sounding little annoyed.

He was lying behind me, so I had his voice in my ear as if he was my conscience itself trying to confront me. He sighed.

 _“I just don’t want you to do things for the wrong reasons and then expect me to…”_ He began but trailed off. _“I’m not the type of man who’ll give you a ring. That’s Tom, not me. And if that’s what you want, then you shouldn’t have left.”_

I sat up and turned to face him, feeling insulted. His eyes traveled down my naked body before they locked on mine and I could see the desire in them, but he clenched his jaw as if restraining himself because we were in the middle of God knows what.

_“Why are you sleeping with his fiancée then, huh? I thought you two were best friends.”_

Pedro clenched his jaw and lifted his right hand to point threateningly at me with his index finger.

 _“Don’t…”_ He warned.

 _“What the fuck, then?”_ I snapped. _“I came here because I wanted to… talk and be with you. I didn’t come to stay.”_

_“You say that now but what happens in a couple weeks when you can no longer afford that hotel?”_

Well, that was harsh. 

What the fuck was this? Murphy’s law?

I tightened my jaw and looked away feeling stupid and unwelcome. I’d hate to admit that I hadn’t thought about it. I hadn’t packed a few things to just make myself at home here, but then again, I never asked myself what would happen in the next days? Deep down perhaps, _I was_ hoping for Pedro to welcome me with open arms. And now, as I stared at him and how indifferently he reached for the cigarettes on his nightstand, I couldn’t help but feel meaningless.

 _“You didn’t think at all. You just left.”_ He scolded and made me feel worse. _“You’re too young and impulsive.”_

And used. He could’ve said these things before he fucked me. I knew that Pedro wasn’t an asshole, and on the rare occasions he acted like one, was because something else was eating at him. Good luck trying to get it out of him though.

And, today of all days he chose to act like this.

I was angry and sad, and I’d hate to cry in front of him because, at this point, I irrationally feared he’d let out a chuckle or ignore my tears. He couldn’t even light up his cigarette because the doorbell rang. He stood up to put on his jeans and grabbed his wallet before walking out of the room. And all of a sudden, rage set in; If I wasn’t taking my fiancé’s shit, I sure as hell wasn’t going to take Pedro’s. I got out of the bed and grudgingly put on my underwear to stomp my way into the living room where he would have to give me some fucking answers.

I thought he was paying the food delivery guy, but I froze in place when I met a pair of blue eyes I knew all too well.

_“Tom…”_


	2. THE TALE OF THE OFFENSE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pedro's lover reminisces on the beginning of things.

* * *

Why is it that when everything goes to shit, we look back, all the way to the very start with a sort of longing and melancholic heart?

Back to when everything was going right with Tom, back to the first time Pedro touched me, and that first time we exchanged a glance across the room that hid our secret beneath the surface of a friendly gesture. Basically all these key points in our twisted story where we could’ve changed the course and not be here right now; the opportunities life gave me to stop this and I did not take.

They were best friends for fuck’s sake, but who am I kidding? It’s what made the thrill.

Tom and I had Pedro over for dinner that one night and we were having a great time. When the booze was over, Tom went to the store buy some more. His friend offered to help me clean up the kitchen in the meantime.

“Fine.” I gave up after he insisted for the 5th time. “I wash. You dry.”

“No.” Pedro said and pointed at himself and then at me. “I wash. You dry.”

It was clear that he was a stubborn man so I gave up at the sight of him sliding his hands into my pink rubber gloves, and there we were doing the dishes.

“I thought you’d bring a hot date.” I teased after a while. “Or two.”

He chuckled.

“Nah.”

“Tom’s mentioned how you have a way with the ladies.” I said.

“He must’ve been talking about himself.”

I raised my eyebrows and cocked my head at him.

“Before you came into his life, of course.” He nervously added.

I rolled my eyes.

“Still. This… I-am-single act of yours... I don’t buy it.” I said. “You’re a handsome man, Pascal.”

He stopped what he was doing and stared at me as if waiting for me to add to or maybe take back my statement somehow but I just held his gaze.

“Well, you’re the only one who thinks so.”

He was joking, of course?

“Women who tend to chase after me are…” He trailed off, widening his eyes and I snickered. “And women like you, they don’t… they don’t glance my way at all.” 

“Women like me.” I echoed.

“I always wanted someone like you.” He blurted out.

I froze and looked him in the eye. We shared an uncomfortable silence almost for a whole minute before he let out another chuckle and carried on.

“Tom is one lucky bastard. I make sure to remind him every now and then.”

I narrowed my eyes at him and got my fingers wet under the sink faucet and flicked the water on his face. His giggle made _me_ giggle, but when our mutual sound of mischievous joy died down, we were back to staring into each other’s soul. And there was something in the way he looked at me, something in the way his lips parted as he stared at mine and how he inhaled through them and his chest rose slightly.

And I realized that he was dead serious.

I flinched when Tom’s headlights reflected on the kitchen window as his car pulled up and parked next to Pedro’s black pickup truck.

I instinctively moved closer to the entrance and Tom, walked in, left a couple of wine bottles on the table and then passed an arm around me before kissing my left temple.

_“My queen’s favorite.”_ He said while motioning at the bottles.

I saw Pedro’s line of sight descending from us to the floor. Tom stared at him.

_“That’s a good look.”_ He said, causing Pedro to look down at the pink gloves he was wearing and let out a shy chuckle.

Something had changed. For the rest of the evening and in the midst of wine sips and friendly conversation among the three of us, Pedro and I kept locking eyes every few minutes.

That was only the first red flag.

The second one came weeks later.

* * *

Me and some friends were hanging out in a bar when, suddenly, we were given free drinks, one for each one of us from the stranger sitting at the counter, who was no stranger at all. When I glanced that way I met Pedro’s dark brown eyes. There he was, alone with a beer in front of him and a lit-up cigarette resting in the ashtray. He raised his bottle at me once I saw him. I told my friends I knew him so I’d go and say thank you. But my gratitude soon turned into a long a conversation.

Pedro and I talked for hours. My friends ended up leaving to go somewhere else and I promised to catch up later but that didn’t happen. I was having way too much fun with Pedro and his endless and amusing jokes and tales. Turns out he lived near that bar so he always enjoyed a beer there after a hard day and walked home.

“Your day must’ve been awful then.” I teased after his 4th beer.

“There’s a fine line between getting drunk out of misery or joy.” He said with a proud tone. “And I don’t know about you but I am having a great time.”

They say the universe conspires in your favor, but everything tends to line up for bad things to happen as well. The only difference; most of the time, bad things are optional.

We were about to reach the front of Pedro’s building and he was planning to get me in a cab when a sudden downpour of rain fell on us. We had to run the rest of the way and into the building, completely soaked and shivering but Pedro was fast when we arrived in his apartment and lit up the fireplace in a second as I ran towards the bathroom to get clean towels as he had suggested. I was starting to remove my jacket to hang it near the warmth and wrap myself in a dry towel instead when I felt Pedro standing behind me about to be a gentleman and help me.

I felt his fingertips casually brushing against the skin on the back of my neck when he grabbed the collar and I demurely tensed up. My heart skipped a beat and I swallowed hard at the thought of him noticing, but he gently placed his hands on my shoulders and inched closer. I could feel him towering over me as both the jacket and the towel landed on the floor. Pedro pressed his lips softly against my right shoulder, then once more closer to the back of my ear. I breathed out and closed my eyes when he put his hands on my hips and brought me even closer to him, kissing my neck.

I turned around and he stared into my soul as if asking for permission. I found myself at the last crossroads. Which path to follow now was my choice, and I just left it up to him. Pedro stared at my lips and didn’t think twice before he crashed his against them like a dehydrated creature finally quenching his thirst after a long drought; with desperation, desire, and relief.

I didn’t know what I was doing but my hands seemed to have a mind of their own as I got rid of his shirt. He pulled me with him towards the couch and I straddled him when he sat down before kissing him and biting his bottom lip. He pulled away and stared at me briefly with amusement before putting his hand on the left side of my face with a glint of disbelief in his eyes, as if he doubted my existence and needed to prove it with another hungry kiss. 

This was wrong but it felt so right. He removed my clothes and I couldn’t wait for Pedro to fuck me as I undid his pants and felt how hard he was. The grunt he let out when I slid down onto his cock reverberated in my core, and his tongue caressed mine as I rode him.

“I dreamt about this a thousand times.” He confessed with uneven breath.

It didn’t take long for him to put me down on the couch to be on top, but I had this aching need to have him take me from behind and grab a fistful of my hair. I thought my knees would give up on me when he did. He was pounding hard into me and then let go of my hair to play with my clit. It was all too much; the touch of his hand, his roughness, his passion, his ragged breath against my skin and his moans when he orgasmed.

I came so intensely my ears were ringing for a minute or two after we were done.

I checked my phone and had three missed calls from Tom.

“Shit.”

I was about to get my clothes from the ground so I could get changed but Pedro wasn’t done with me. He grabbed my phone, threw it on the carpet and got on top of me again. He kissed my breasts and abdomen, going lower and lower until he buried his face between my thighs.

That was only the beginning. Soon after, we were addicted to each other.

* * *

The sound of his lighter brought me back to the present as he lit up a cigarette.

I will never forget Tom’s face when he pushed past shirtless Pedro to find me in nothing but lingerie in his friend’s apartment. I hadn’t answered any of his numerous phone calls but he got there using a location finder app. I’m sure Tom thought that I had been in need of a friend, and maybe we could’ve pulled it off if we had been fully dressed.

I witnessed how he grabbed Pedro by the throat and pushed him against the wall, his blue eyes were tainted with the ravages of betrayal by not only his fiancé but his best fucking friend.

“You just can’t help who you are, can you?” Tom said through gritted teeth.

But the rage blended into sadness and he loosened the grip around Pedro’s neck. Pedro could’ve pushed him or worse, but he knew perfectly well that he was guilty, and if Tom had decided to beat the shit out of him, Pedro would’ve let him out of useless respect at this point.

Completely overwhelmed and devastated, Tom walked out.

“You should go talk to him”, Pedro said taking a drag on his cigarette.

My eyes widened at his evident lack of sanity.

“He will kill me.”

But Pedro just shook his head with inexplicable calm.

“He loves you.” He blew out the smoke. “Men do all kinds of stupid shit when they’re in love… like forgiving an infidelity for example.”

I just frowned at Pedro, my zen lover, before I retorted.

“And… what? Just…” I trailed off with a sigh. “We’ll kiss and make up, and you’ll still be his best man at the wedding?” I scoffed.

“I never said he’d forgive me.” Pedro looked me in the eye. “Listen, knock on his door, say you’re sorry, that you were blinded by anger and did something stupid. It’ll take some time but he will forgive you.”

“And what are _you_ going to do?”

“I fucked it up. I kissed you.” He said putting out the cigarette. “He’s probably figured it out already, and I can only keep my distance.”

I bit my lip with worry. Pedro seemed fine with losing Tom’s friendship which made me wonder if he had been a wolf in sheep’s clothing all this time. But what struck me the most was how easily he seemed to be giving me up. He sure had no problem throwing me to the wolf Tom would become in the next hours and days. I, more than ever, needed him to elaborate on our unfinished conversation before everything went to shit because this was beginning to look like a very cold goodbye.

“What the fuck was that all about earlier?” I asked.

“What?”

“About me making decisions for the wrong reasons?”

He hesitated and sank in the couch.

“I’m sure that if you and I weren’t doing this, you wouldn’t have left Tom like that after one silly fight.” He confessed.

“And the ring thing?”

He sighed with frustration, breathing out my name while dragging a hand down his face.

“Por Dios…” He made sure I was listening. “I don’t want you to mix things up. You’re engaged to Tom. We’re just fucking.”

I felt a pinch of rage in the tips of my fingertips that were suddenly aching to slap him across the face. I had had enough. I tightened my jaw and rose up from the couch.

“Got it.” I said and started gathering my scattered clothes from the floor. “I’m supposed to go deal with Tom and marry him as if you and I haven’t been having an affair for months now, just because you’re a selfish prick who’s good and done with me now that he knows, right?”

“Hey-” Pedro said while reaching out for my hand but I moved away which only caused him to swiftly sit up straight and catch my wrist a bit more brusquely. “I’m doing this for your own good.”

“What? Leaving me when things get rough?” You spat.

Pedro pulled me a little harsher than necessary, causing me to land on top of him on the couch, straddling him. And the end resembled the beginning.

He put a strand of hair behind my ear and pressed his forehead against yours.

“What do you see in me, huh?” He asked in an angry voice while forcing me to look straight into his eyes.

He caught my lips with his in a violent manner and my anger made me want to resist him but once I felt him getting hard beneath me, and I started to succumb, but if he truly wanted me to go back to my fiancé, this needed to cease. Now.

“We have to stop.”

He let out a breathy chuckle.

“You got it all wrong.” He murmured. “Tom is the man you marry… but I’m the man you fuck.”


	3. THE WEDDING GUEST

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath & the end?

* * *

As Pedro had assured, Tom did in fact forgive my little indiscretion. Not without giving me a hard time and making me swear one million times that I would never do it again, of course. It was like a very long trial and I was waiting to be sentenced by my fiancé. But there are always tiny holes in the law that defense attorneys creep into in order to save the guilty from the death penalty. That’s how I was absolved from my sins; my closing argument went something like this:

“It was a one-time thing. I was blinded by anger. And, technically, it wasn’t cheating. I had left my engagement ring on the bedside table.”

Hey, all is fair in love and war; even cynicism.

“And where did _you_ spend the night anyway, Thomas?”

Touché.

Where _had_ he spent the night indeed and why would I believe him? Implying that he could’ve been with someone else as well while I was at home, alone all night, was what finally made him reconsider everything. I obviously snapped when I woke up in the morning and he wasn’t there and… the rest is history. What about Pedro? Well, men understand men. However, Tom never wanted to see him again and they hadn’t spoken since that day. Pedro was found guilty and that friendship was sentenced to death. Case closed. Jury, pound the gavel.

I kept my promise and behaved. I didn’t see nor talked to Pedro the weeks leading up to the wedding, and Tom was obviously a bit paranoid and constantly checking on me. The more I behaved, the more he believed in me again.

The sound of a mug being placed on the coffee table in front of me suddenly brought me back to my living room and the book in my hands. I glanced up to see Tom sitting across from me with a mug of his own.

“Thanks.” I said with a smile as I reached for the hot chocolate he had been kind enough to make.

“Sure.”

I could see that he was nervous. He was sitting on the edge of the couch, just staring at the hot beverage in his hands. His lips parted and closed a couple times until he cleared his throat.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

“What do you mean?”

“D-do… do you still want to do this?”

I felt a pinch of guilt in the pit of my stomach at the vulnerability in his tone. It resembled a kid’s after they’ve been scolded and traumatized.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?” I calmly inquired.

He sighed and placed the mug on the coffee table and hesitated for a while but finally looked me in the eye.

“More than ever.” He said.

I swallowed hard.

“I just-” He carried on. “I just need to know that I’m not pressuring you because… maybe… I proposed too soon and that had something… or a lot to do with what-”

“Tom,” I had to stop him. “You cannot blame yourself for that.” I closed and left the book on the couch to get closer to him and hold his hand. “I made a mistake, and I am here because I want to be. That’s… if you’ll still take me, of course.”

I felt him holding my hand tighter before he leaned in and kissed me tenderly, almost thankful.

“You’re not going to run away on our wedding day, are you?” He half-teased.

I giggled, bit my bottom lip and shook my head as I leaned in for a second kiss. Maybe the Pedro situation still needed closure. Maybe this was it.

Maybe it was wedding jitters.

* * *

Someone from the catering service came to my table and whispered something in my ear that sent a chill up my spine.

I gave a discreet nod and then looked at my brand new husband and smiled for him. I waited a couple minutes and excused myself to go to the ladies’ room. I walked in a different direction; towards the parking lot of our wedding venue where a black pickup truck flashed its headlights at me.

“You have got to be kidding me.” I mumbled to myself as I ventured into the woods surrounding the parking lot and up a small hill where the truck was semi-hidden.

I was in a wedding dress and heels, for fuck’s sake. Of course I was mad.

I opened the passenger door and cocked my head at the sight of Pedro in a dark suit, white shirt, undone bowtie, behind the wheel and with beer number who knows in hand, since there were several empty glass bottles scattered on the backseat.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I said while folding my arms across my chest.

“Get in. Close the door.” He demanded.

Once I did, and looked ahead, I realized why he had chosen to park on the small hill. You could see the whole venue from there.

“Are you seriously watching my wedding from the parking lot with a portable beer cooler like a fucking redneck who didn’t get tickets to a concert?”

He ignored my insult and smiled. Mischievously like only he could.

“I couldn’t miss it.”

“If Tom sees you here, the only thing I’ll be getting on my wedding night is a divorce.”

“You look beautiful.”

Pedro was definitely tipsy. I had just had my first dance with my new husband, and here I was, ten minutes later, in my imprudent lover’s car.

“Pedro, what do you want?” I calmly asked.

“I guess I came here to say… congratulations.” He added with laziness on the last word and while leaning against the car seat headrest. “I sent you guys a gift with the waiter. The one with the gold polka dots. It doesn’t have a note.”

I frowned. Was he crazy?

“Thank you.” I cleared my throat. “I have to go back. You should leave, Pedro. This won’t end well if anyone sees us.”

I reached for the door handle but before I could get out, he took my left hand in his. When I looked at him, he was staring at my engagement and wedding ring set while deep in thought.

“Would you have said yes if I had given you one of these?”

I gave him a don’t-even-go-there kind of look. I hadn’t seen this man since our last encounter that had ended in tragedy and drama over not only Tom finding out about the affair but also Pedro’s strong aversion to any type of commitment. Some people were allergic to shellfish; my lover was allergic to love.

“I thought you didn’t do rings…” I said. 

“You do know why I said that the other day, right?” He asked.

I sighed with frustration and moved my hand away.

“I don’t know… because you hate the idea of marriage?”

“No, mi amor.” He chuckled. “Because I am not the man for you.”

I was starting to get mad.

“You’re too good for me.” He added.

I was mad. He “wasn’t the man for me” and apparently not good enough for me but he sure could fuck me, the shameless son of a bitch, who also added,

“I know what you’re thinking but… things aren’t black or white.”

Something finally clicked and the things Pedro had said in the past filled my mind. _“Women like you”, “I feel like Beauty and the Beast.”, “Tom is the man you marry”, “I’m not the man for you.”,_ and the sight of him now; absolute resignation making peace with the fate he knew we could only share. Or he was settling for.

This man truthfully couldn’t see his own beauty but seemed overwhelmed by mine, which perhaps, I wasn’t seeing either. 

“So, the shades of gray are your many insecurities, is that what you’re trying to say?” I asked.

“I constantly ask myself how you ended up in bed with me.” He took a big swig of beer.

“Well, maybe you won’t have to anymore.” I said with a sarcastic tone.

Pedro got closer to me. He stared at my lips and swallowed hard. I knew he wanted to kiss me but he was restraining himself to somehow “respect” my wedding at little bit. The thought of me in this ethereal white dress, wildly kissing this currently scruffy-looking-fellow, was inexplicably appealing. But I, for once, kept still.

Let him suffer now.

“I will be here until you no longer want me.” He murmured. “Until you tell me you’re sick of me.”

I was furious. I stared straight ahead and saw Tom on the dance floor with a big smile on his face and realized many, many things. Were it not for these deep-rooted insecurities Pedro lived his life with, perhaps, we could’ve had it all. This is all I could ever be to him, a lover, a trophy of some sort because he thought he was unworthy of me. Ironically enough, he was so used to that belief that he would never risk taking a bigger step with me.

If I was such an “accomplishment” for him, then why wasn’t he willing to do something greater to keep me in his life? Truth is, I would’ve loved to be Pedro’s girlfriend at least. I loved the sound of that, even the aesthetic. But that was never even a possibility because he would always self-sabotage. And there Tom was, dancing, celebrating and showing the world he loved me and had me in his life, and all Pedro wanted was a smidgen of that.

I was only an ego boost, and a woman Pedro could not handle in the long run.

I forced a smile for him and got out of the car.

People accept the love they think they deserve, and Pedro, Tom, and I were playing by this rule that formed a triangle of tough love. I wasn’t so different to Pedro. I had sabotaged my healthy relationship. Did I feel like I didn’t deserve it then? Did Tom feel like he deserved my betrayal?

In this moment of clarity, I was sure now that I’d either have to break the chain or force therapy on each of us. I closed the door and started to walk away but Pedro called out my name as he rolled down the window to speak one more time.

“Give me a call when you come back from your honeymoon.”

I half-smiled and walked away.

_Had I finally learned?_


	4. THE CHEETAH DRESS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their honeymoon and while moving into a new home, Tom's fiancée finds a dress that sends her down memory lane, back in Pedro's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost, I would like to thank @clockgirl94 on Tumblr, because if she hadn’t sent me the Javier gif posted here, this chapter wouldn’t have been born. ❤︎
> 
> I was reluctant to write spanish dialogue translations but then I remembered that spanish is my first language and maybe not everyone else’s lol. 
> 
> And also, there’s a subtle POV change.
> 
> Enjoy!

****

[CHAPTER TEASER](https://theartofimagining13.tumblr.com/post/643147638834954240/happy-valentines-day) | [CHAPTER POSTER](https://theartofimagining13.tumblr.com/post/643415075600859136/story-teaser)

**THE ~~CHEATER~~ CHEETAH DRESS.**

* * *

Funny how some humans’ defense mechanism works only in retrospect.

You get out of a messy situation, and it is only when you look back that things are crystal clear and you ask yourself _why did I not see this before?_

I was sitting on the floor, surrounded by boxes. After our honeymoon, Tom bought a bigger house in a quieter area of the city for us to move into. As I unpacked my clothes, I found a little summer dress that I hadn’t seen in months and I might as well have used as a noose because, as soon as I saw it, as soon as I touched it, I was out of breath and felt the biggest knot in my throat. There’s violence in the way some memories come back to us with an object or a smell; that seemingly insignificant piece of fabric unleashed in my mind a wild river of memories.

I chuckled at myself.

If I had truly wanted to forget, I would’ve burned the fucking dress but I had only managed to stash it at the bottom of a forgotten drawer, and now it was here. I got up and neatly placed it on the bed and stared at it. I suddenly felt a kiss on my left temple. Tom walked past me afterwards holding another heavy box and I saw the curious face he made once he left it on the floor and noticed the dress.

“You haven’t worn that in a long time.” 

“I know…”

He stood behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

“You should.” He purred in my ear before planting kisses down my neck. “You drive me crazy in it.”

My heart raced when he held me tighter and spun me around. He caught my lips with his and I felt his hands going down my back. This was triggering for me, I had to stop him without being suspicious so I gently pulled away.

“Take me out on a date when we’re done here and I just might wear it.” I lied.

Tom let out a quiet pleasure groan in advance at the mental image perhaps.

“You got yourself a deal, baby.”

He gave me a quick peck on the lips and left to carry on with the move.

I sighed. See, the thing is, Tom wasn’t the only one who that dress drove crazy, and by now, I am pretty sure we’ve established that he and his former best friend, Pedro, liked the same things. As I stared at it again, I let myself go and revisited that particular memory in the forbidden recollections book.

* * *

Tom and I were hosting a summer cookout for a few friends and family in our old garden.

It was a beautiful, warm, sunny day in June, and I was wearing the now infamous cheetah print dress with combat boots. Tom had proposed a few days prior, and I hadn’t told Pedro. The thought alone made me nervous because how was I supposed to even form that sentence?

_Hello, lover. I just got engaged._

Cringe. Of course not. Which is why I chose not to wear the ring for the occasion.

It didn’t get any easier when I saw Pedro as I walked out into the backyard. He was helping Tom with the grill and the charcoal, with a beer bottle in one hand but looked up at me and stared almost longer than politically correct. And the way he did it, slowly from head to toe and with slightly parted lips which made me feel things I shouldn’t have felt; but that ship had sailed. I kept my distance mingling with others at the party and he stayed there talking to Tom for a while.

I wish I had heard that conversation.

* * *

“I asked her to marry me.” Tom said with the biggest grin. “She said yes, mate.”

Pedro tensed up and stared at Tom, he swallowed and washed down a million sour words he could’ve said with the swig of beer he took.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Tom chuckled. “I was… terrified.”

“Well, who in their right mind would ever do that?” Pedro half joked.

“You say that now…” Tom said. “But you just wait. I mean, look at her. Can you blame me?”

Pedro tightened his jaw as he glanced at her one more time and spoke through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, I’ve told you a million times that you’re a lucky motherfucker.” He said causing Tom to laugh. “I gotta take a leak.” Pedro announced dryly. “Hey, you got anything stronger than this?” and immediately added, “We’re celebrating, aren’t we?”

“There’s whiskey inside.”

“I’ll get it.”

He started to walk away but stopped to look back at Tom, realizing that he had forgotten something.

“Congratulations, man.” He forced a smile.

When Pedro walked into the bathroom, he splashed his face with cold water and scowled at himself in the mirror.

* * *

I put a big pitcher of lemonade in the fridge before I went upstairs but I stopped midway when I heard the hallway bathroom door opening and closing, and instinctively looked over my shoulder only to find Pedro.

I couldn’t read his expression so I kept walking, hoping that he would follow me, and aching for a moment with just the two of us alone. I faced him when I reached mine and Tom’s bedroom door and leaned against it with my hands behind my back. He got closer and placed his right hand right next to my head, towering over me as he stared into my soul.

“You think you can just walk around in that little dress and get away with it?”

“You like it?” I teased.

He slowly looked down and up again, provokingly.

“It’s driving me crazy.” He confessed in almost a whisper.

I allowed my eyes to wander and make sure that we were completely alone before I leaned in to kiss him. The kiss was cold, empty, so unlike Pedro’s trademark passionate ones, and he was rarely in a bad mood which made it twice as scary when he actually was, but I had no idea if that was the case. I pulled away and furrowed my eyebrows with concern. He cleared his throat and sniffed loudly.

“Is there something you’d like to tell me?” He inquired with the most serious face and tone.

“What do you mean?”

But he just cocked his head with condescendence and, it took me a minute, but I figured out what he was talking about.

“He told you.” I sighed. “Pedro, I was going to tell you, I just-”

“ _When_ were you going to tell me?” He cut me off.

“I-I don’t know, I couldn’t find the right w-”

I ceased talking and flinched when he struck the door with the hand that had been resting next to my head.

“Fuck’s sake…” He cursed and roamed a little with his hands on his waist.

Back then, silly me thought he was jealous, hell, I even liked it a bit. But no. Pedro was worried.

“Now?” He asked with a much more collected tone. “He had to propose now?”

Looking back, this was the only moment Pedro felt a little remorse. He was worried because my engagement had just made things even more complicated. Ironically enough, our affair had only started when this happened; we had been meeting in secret for a few weeks. We could’ve stopped then while Tom hadn’t a clue, could’ve pretended that it never happened and move on. Pedro and Tom’s friendship would’ve remained intact.

Pedro was a hypocrite, we’ve also established that. Somehow, it was okay to fuck his best friend’s girlfriend but once I became his fiancée, Pedro looked like he had finally encountered a line he could not cross.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” He wondered out loud while looking over my shoulder as if he could see Tom in the backyard, through the door and walls.

Truthfully, I was very happy with my diamond ring, so, I also started pondering on my future with Pedro. The fact that our affair had just started had a pro and a con in common; Pro, We had only just begun which would make it easier to cut ties right then and there. Con, we had only just begun which would make it ten times harder to quit right then and there.

I sighed with frustration when I had that moment of honest clarity.

“I guess we could… stop?” I hesitantly asked and hated it to no end.

Pedro’s face fell and he studied me briefly but carefully.

“I mean,” I added. “People might get hurt.”

Pedro blinked several times and slowly began to nod.

“You’re right. We don’t… we don’t want that. We’ve been lucky.”

But I swallowed hard because I could easily tell that he loathed this as much as I did.

“We should just… be friends.”

Again, his brown eyes traveled up and down my body and he gulped.

“Friends.” He echoed.

My heart was racing in the middle of the staring contest we seemed to be having, and I felt as if he could hear it over the silence we shared. He inched closer.

“Is…is that what you want?” He inquired.

At that point, that was the only right thing left to do, and to sort of mend things or prevent them from getting worse. But Pedro understood my silence when I just glued my eyes to his.

“Open the door.” He ordered.

As soon as I did, he followed me inside, closing it behind him and kissed me on the lips in the most urgent way, and I thought my heart would leap out of my chest. I could feel his hands going down my back as he kissed my neck and chest, and I turned around and faced the bed because I knew what we both wanted and needed. He pressed me against his body and cupped my breasts. I could feel him getting hard and it weakened my knees. His hands went underneath my dress and he pulled down my underwear before pulling the skirt up.

The sound of Pedro unbuckling his belt in a rush reverberated in my core. I desperately needed him inside of me, I wanted and needed him to fuck me till we both came. He licked his fingers and touched me, letting out a silent and proud chuckle because I was more than ready for him. Our foreplay had started from the moment he decided to eye fuck me as soon as I showed up in the garden, and our little conversation was the sugar on the rim. He lowered his pants enough to pull out his cock and caressed my entrance with the tip, using his free hand to gently and slightly bend me over the bed.

And he tortured me like this for a few seconds that felt much longer to me, inserting just the tip, slowly going out and in again until I felt like I couldn’t take it anymore and he finally quickened the pace. I wanted more. I needed more. I needed him, all of him, and I moaned when he finally granted me my wish.

“Fuck…” He breathed out and just stayed inside of me while I adjusted to him.

Pedro grabbed me by the hips with a tight grip and started fucking me like I had been silently begging him to; Hard and fast and just making me his. His low grunts and his ragged breath were turning me on even more. One of his hands slid up my back until his fingers got lost in my hair and he grabbed a fistful as he kept pounding into me, but it moved down to my neck, prompting me to stand up straight as he wrapped his arms around my waist and one greedy hand cupped one of my breasts.

“ _Te gusta?_ (You like it?)”

I groaned. I loved it when he whispered things in Spanish in my ear, and adding the fact that we had to be as quiet as possible was driving me over the edge.

“ _Dime._ (Tell me).”

“Yes.” I breathed out. “Pedro…”

He chuckled again, knowing what I was implying and begging for, and he nibbled my neck before whispering once more.

“ _Te quieres venir?_ (You want to cum?)” He asked even though he knew I was dying to cum. I could even hear his mischievous grin. “ _Vente, mi amor._ (Cum, my love).”

The rhythm of his thrusts increased again and he held me tighter. My whole body tensed up, I could feel it, the tingling sensation slowly taking over until it possessed me whole, mind and soul. Pedro had to cover my mouth as I came undone in his arms, he held onto me for dear life and buried his face in the crook of my neck as he poured himself into me and let out a suffocated moan against my skin.

With relief washing over us, our heart rates began to settle, and our foreheads were covered with a thin layer of sweat.

* * *

As I freshened up and washed my face, I stared at myself in the mirror and wondered if that had been the last time for Pedro and I.

Perhaps we had said goodbye in the only way we knew how.

I entered the kitchen and poured myself a much needed glass of ice cold lemonade before I was joined by my fiancé.

“I think we should tell them.” Tom said while taking out a few more meat packages from the fridge.

“What?” I asked in a blissful yet lethargic daze.

“About our engagement.” He placed them on the counter.

He stood in front of me, waiting as if he was asking for permission and looked at my glass of lemonade which he ended up stealing to take a sip.

But when he looked down at my hand, he frowned.

“Where’s your ring?” He asked.

“Oh, I… I took it off when I washed my hands and must’ve left it in the bathroom.” I lied.

“Put it on.” He said.

It was all the same now, Pedro knew. So, I did as I was told for Tom to make the announcement in the garden. I heard the three C’s of celebration; clamoring, cheering, and clapping, but all I could see was Pedro sitting in the back, and when his brown eyes found mine, he just showed a cynical smile and raised his glass of whiskey, at me, the cheeky bastard who had just fucked the fiancée in the cheetah dress.

Or the cheater in the dress.

I was sure that Pedro was just as addicted to me as I was to him. Engagement or not, we just weren’t ready to stop. If anything, he craved me more fiercely than before, and that ring on my finger just turned him on even more.

We had only just begun.

* * *

I blinked several times as the arousing memory dissolved and I became aware of my surroundings.

I bit my lip and wondered if Pedro still thought of these encounters of ours. I asked myself if he missed me, if he thought about me, if he touched himself while doing so, if he envisioned me while fucking someone else. Or the possibility of an ugly truth where he had just moved on and I meant nothing, but then I remembered my wedding day and his drunken honesty.

Of course he fucking thought of me.


End file.
